A Christmas Story

Once it was decided that I would stay here for Christmas and not travel home (for most of December I was really keen for the latter option), I threw my energy into my surroundings. Karen and I had a party for our 15 regular Art Club participants and spent a fair bit of time buying just the right T-shirt for each one. For instance, JeanPierre and Fils got these cool black, red and white long sleeved shirts and little Ariana got a pink sweetheart one. The party was phenomenal as we had made stockings the week before out of paperbags and we filled the stockings with candy and party favors. The children arrived on time and were quite well behaved and calm for the first ½ hour. Then we played musical chairs and had a dance marathon and ate lollipops and watched a boy-band performance by Francois, JeanPierre and Claude and a beautiful dance performed by Yvette, Evelyn, Voisine, Gloria, Noella and Solange. Serge’s mouth turned blue from his lolly. Voisine’s shirt was laughably too big. Emmanuel was enjoying the games just as much as the 9 year olds. There were lots of hugs, hands held, kids in laps and smiles all around. Basically, you couldn’t have asked for a nicer afternoon; the room was full of love. On Christmas Eve we met up with our friend Tom for a dinner at Splendid, a somewhat fancier restaurant in Gitarama.
Christmas Day was equally unique. In the morning, we visited the Urukundo Home for Children (where we attend church each Sunday) and were given the tough task of setting up the tree with presents underneath and then guarding the presents from the 40 curious children until the time came to hand them out. Now, friends with kids you know how excited they are on Christmas morn? Try 40 who aren’t used to getting gifts!! It was great fun basking in their anticipation. The children performed several dance numbers, Bibles were distributed by Mama, we took Communion and finally the kids received their gifts. My favorite basketball buddy Gatete actually refused to open his right away, he put it away in his room saying he wanted to keep it just like it is for now.
In the afternoon, Karen and I accepted an invitation from JeanPierre and his father to Christmas dinner. I’m not sure I have the words to share with you what it feels like to have the poorest boy in your neighbourhood extend to you an invitation on one of the most special days of the year. He and his father live alone in a one room mudhut with two chairs, a mattress and a few pots. Little else. We sat and spoke in Kinyarwanda and as the food came out it was quite clear that no matter what the conditions were, we would partake in their generosity. Now, having visited other poor families before I know firsthand that an unfortunate side effect of such visits is some unpleasant indigestion the following day. By this I mean sweating, vomiting, bad tummy..pretty much all at once. I’ve long since decided it’s not Rwanda’s fault that I can’t stomach the conditions. My weak system is to blame, not the conditions.. or so it goes. The impoverished just don’t have the means to keep clean water or buy and prepare food in the appropriate way. Nevertheless, Karen and I toughed it out, enjoyed the company and kindness very much and were altogether touched by the day’s events. Immediately upon arriving home I vomited intensely for two hours and was pretty off the rest of the day. Karen experienced similar issues the following day because she refused to make herself get sick. Was it worth it? Absolutely!!
The evening’s festivities were pretty awesome too. Karen had sparklers from home and we went out front and lit them to the awe and amazement of a handful of kids. I have never had a Christmas quite like this one. Giving Bruno a jar of bubbles, giving Valens several packs of gum, giving Procar a snazzy shirt, giving Silas a warm sweater, giving Emmanuel an art kit- I liked playing Santa. We worry so much about not giving inappropriately- even though I have things I don’t use or need I can’t always just give because I’m concerned about how it reflects on my role here. Christmas provided a perfect excuse to just give for the sake of giving. If I have a sweater that I don’t wear and it just sits in my cupboard and Silas, Christi’s guard looks cold each time we see him.. well, you know how it is.
One of the best gifts was the one I got for Karen. We had been in the Kimironko market together in Kigali a week or so before Christmas. She had seen and unsuccessfully tried to bargain for this great orange dress. The price being offered was extortionate. We continued on and at one point she went to look at sheets. I thought: Now’s my chance and snuck away. Now the Kimironko market is like the Eaton Centre in Toronto: MASSIVE. I ran through the aisles, looking for that same vendor, found him and started pleading my case. He was mid-sale when I saw Karen walk by looking for me. I literally ducked down so she wouldn’t see me. I explained to the confused group of vendors that it was a surprise gift for my friend, I think they were wondering why I was acting so silly. I bought the dress and then tried to find her but wouldn’t you know it now we had really lost each other. It was comical as each vendor tried to help the one mzungu find the other and I guess we kept missing one another. I didn’t have my phone with me. Anyway, eventually found each other, I made up some story and kept the dress hidden in my backpack. On Christmas Eve (of course my family realizes we have to open atleast ONE on Christmas Eve n’est pas?), she opened the gift, it fits to a T and looks like it was made for her. What fun!!
But that’s my favourite part of Christmas back home, the pre-holiday stuff when your friends and family are foremost in your thoughts and you are imagining how best to surprise them on Christmas, only this time I didn’t spend my days running around malls, wrestling for parking spots surrounded by holiday hoopla. The same effects were achieved and although I might not have had any images of Santa or snow or the lights in Victoria Park back home, I certainly experienced the same warmth and goodwill that comes at this wonderful time of year.
Noheli nziza na umwaka mwiza to my family in Canada and my family here in Rwanda!!